#when i was about to fucking shatter like a porcelain plate

[willowfey]

this is the third morning in a row i’ve woken up from NO NIGHTMARES and WITHOUT being nauseous from anxiety after multiple weeks of nothing but that…

feeling hashtag blessed and a little bit less stressed

[celestiababie]

A Handful - K.MG

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: fluff, highly suggestive (18+), domestic!au, established relationship!

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, chest fondling (m and f receiving), cursing, Mingyu is a little shit, reader is hormonal and easily annoyed, Mingyu possibly has a breeding kink, reader is shorter than Mingyu, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Word Count: 915 (short but I was on hiatus and this is the first thing I'm writing in MONTHS)

Summary: Your husband is no stranger to being touchy and clingy, but he's been especially annoying ever since you gave him the big news.

A/N: I'M MOTHERFUCKING BACK!!! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this. For reference, this acts as a small prequel to a small series I have about stay at home husband/dad! Mingyu. You don't have to read the other parts, but I will leave a link to the series masterlist just in case people want to read it. Please leave feedback, I'd really appreciate it, especially since I'm a bit nervous about posting again haha.

Series Masterlist

A pair of warm hands suddenly wrap around your growing stomach, engulfing you as a gigantic presence looms over you. 

The shriek that escapes your lips is embarrassing, but not nearly embarrassing as your hands lose their grasp on the plate you were scrubbing, dropping it in the sink and causing the fine porcelain to shatter. 

"Shit—are you hurt, baby?" Your husband's voice echoes through the not yet completed kitchen, irking you more than it normally would. 

Spinning in his hold, you wipe your damp hands on the sides of your sweatpants before shooting him one of the deadliest (and sexiest) glares he's ever witnessed.

"No, I'm not hurt, but I keep telling you not to sneak up behind me when I'm doing the dishes! I don't even understand how your tall ass is that fucking quiet," you start, your brows furrowed as you hold your glare.

Mingyu opens his mouth to reply but can't get a single word out before you shush him with a single finger to the lips. 

"I'm not finished. And this is the fifth. No, the sixth time a plate has broken since we've moved here." 

"That's not that bad, Y/n," Mingyu defends with a pout accompanying his words.

You cock a brow at the tall man, scoffing at his pathetic defense, your tongue pressed into the side of your cheek.

Six plates is a lot for any man, but it becomes comical when it's only been a month and a half since moving into the new house with your klutz of a husband. 

"You've also spilled drinks. Many times. Dropped multiple glasses. And don't think that I'm stupid and don't know you dropped the bottle of wine Minghao gifted us. I was looking forward to drinking that. That's pretty bad, admit it, Gyu," you list off, enjoying how a deep rosiness reaches the tips of his ears, almost as deep as the wine you'd never be able to appreciate. 

Mingyu slowly turned your frame back around to face the sink once again. His hands roamed across your stomach, which was getting bigger and bigger with every day that passed.

 Like always, Mingyu felt his heart racing in his chest as he caressed your stomach, his body flooding with that overwhelming emotion he could only describe as true unconditional happiness and love for both of his girls. 

Okay, maybe he didn't know the sex of the baby yet, but his gut was telling him he was gonna be a father of a little baby girl, and he was sticking to it for now. His intuition rarely failed him, and if he hadn't stuck to his guns, he would have never got together with you. 

"You wouldn't be able to drink it right now anyway, baby. Let's focus on things I'm good at, hm? The kitchen is almost done, and the living room looks beautiful, if I do say so myself. I'm pretty good at painting, so I'll have the nursing done in no time. I just cooked my beautiful wife a wonderful meal that she was moaning about the entire time," he shamelessly declares, the smugness apparent in his voice. 

You bite back a sassy remark when you feel his hands traverse up your abdomen, gently grabbing your swollen breasts in his large hands to massage them carefully. Your head relaxes against him as you let out a deep sigh, your husband's skillful hands rubbing away the ache and soreness. 

Mingyu studied your blissful expression for what felt like the millionth time. He'd never grow tired of how your eyes would flutter shut, eyelashes resting on the tops of your cheeks as your pretty lips parted, taking deep breaths as you savored the feeling of his hands on your body. 

He tilts his head to bring his lips closer to your ear, "And I'm really good at making mommy feel good, isn't that right, baby?" 

Your eyes roll behind your eyelids as you let out a breathy laugh, amused but not surprised by your husband's antics.

"You're so annoying, Mingyu," you moan, practically purring your husband's name, which only inflates his ego more.

"How convenient for me; you've always looked so damn sexy when annoyed."

A light bulb lights up in your head as you watch your husband's back muscles as he walks over to the kitchen sink to set aside the dishes. 

Let's see how he likes it.

A Cheshire-like smirk paints your lips as you slowly come up behind your half-naked husband to wrap your arms around his waist, your stomach pressing against his tanned skin.

But much to your disappointment, Mingyu didn't give you the reaction you hoped for. 

"Gonna keep me company while I wash up?"

You frown and deeply exhale as you crawl your hands further up his torso. Your nails drag along his skin, which generates a shiver throughout his entire being, goosebumps forming on his skin. 

"No, I'm trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, but you're enjoying this too much," you reply, your fingers inching further with every word.

A low moan rumbles out of Mingyu as your hands feel up his sore chest from working out right before waking you for breakfast. 

Shit, his chest got even bigger. Damn, that home gym he insisted on. 

You watch as Mingyu writhes against you as your fingers trail over his nipples, a shaky breath forced out of his body as he grabs the edge of the sink.

He's so annoying.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hiya! Was wondering about a bad blood that takes a woman from earth but she's fine with it? He expected more fighting from her but is pleased. Not sure how you feel about soulmates but maybe he's been drawn to her for awhile and finally just took her?

Are We Meant To Be? Part 2

Pairings: Cew’voc (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2995

Summary: So much time has passed since you last saw that mysterious figure. He saved you then abandoned you. You had discovered he was your soulmate too late. When all hope was lost, he comes back to you. Is it too late?

Author Note: Okay, I know this isn't entirely what you were asking for. But, I hope it's still okay. If not, let me know and I do another for you. I wanted to use this as an excuse to write a part two for this story.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

All the years since that faithful day offered no relief. Since then, you’ve had your ups and downs. From ending up jobless and homeless, you were able to barely bounce back to a decent life. It wasn’t normal. It would never be normal again. Not without what you saw that night. Who or whatever that creature was… he was yours. As much as you were his. Two souls destined for one another.

The reminder made your heart ache. You gritted your teeth and rubbed the heel of your hand over your sternum. Some of your co-workers gave you a puzzled look before shaking their heads and going back to their business. You cleared your throat before squaring your shoulders to face the lobby and customers all over again.

A pain that’ll be with you till the end of time. You were used to it.

Twelve hours in the building was an average shift. It was the minimum you needed to work five days a week just to make do.

From living an average, normal life, meeting what had to be your soulmate had ruined everything. Despite the longing to see him, just a glimpse every so often, there was no chance. He abandoned you. It was unheard of. Usually soulmates for the first time they meet each other can’t leave each other. Some say its physical and others say its emotional. But to break apart within even the first day was beyond cruel. It’ll leave someone, yourself, broken and hollow.

That’s exactly what you are. A shell of the person you used to be. Now, here you were, a beggar for any change, even a penny. It could mean the difference between having a roof over your head or being homeless.

No one wanted you. Not even someone destined to be with you until you died.

The plates in your hand wobbled precariously. Your attention returned to your surroundings only to watch the four plates you had been carrying slip off of your arms. They came crashing down onto the ground. The porcelain shattering into tiny pieces at your aching feet. Food smears across the ground.

In the moments after that, you could only look down at the mess you’ve created. Your shoulders slumped. There was gasps that sounded through the lobby of the diner you worked out. But, you heard nothing. Stuck in your own world again while all you could do was look at the disaster at your feet.

This was it. Your last straw that broke the camel’s back. It seemed like you couldn’t hold down a job anymore. The pains in your chest only growing worse with the passing time. No one understood. This didn’t happen. Worst of all, it’s not like you had any insurance to work with. There was no help. All you did was suffer through the pain.

Over the white noise in your ears, you heard your name shouted at the top of someone’s lungs. Avery. Your boss. She came stopping around to stand in front of you with a heated glare in her eye. You simply lifted your head to look at her, dead and emotionless.

Her gaze flickered for a moment but returned to steel. One of her hands whipped out to point towards the door. “Get the fuck out of my establishment. You’re fucking useless,” she bit out with a ferocity you didn’t know she had. You blinked at her before finally picking up your feet and making your way to the door. Not even clocking out or taking off your apron.

There you had done it again. Lost another job. Useless. Just like she said. You couldn’t do anything right. Not even your own soulmate wanted to stay with you.

The concrete was harsh on your knees despite the jeans you were wearing. You had collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk. No one gave you a second glance; only giving you a look of disgust and going on their way. A broken sob left your chapped lips. The world around you closing in. You tilted your head backwards to gaze at the darkening sky.

It wasn’t long before day morphed into night. Sometime during the transition you had pulled yourself up and meandered along the path set in front of you. It was random and leading you further and further from the dingy apartment called home. The city you resided in offered nothing of relief. It allowed you to stay on a decently lit path through the side of town you resided in.

In your heart, something tugged you to stop. Your head finally picking up to find the street deserted. You had walked so far that not even those brave enough would venture out. A whine built in the back of your throat. This was pointless. Now, you were somehow lost. Your head tilted back to look at the dark sky. There was little to no stars that would dot the night sky. “What am I doing?” Your voice was hoarse. It lacked the warmth it had years ago.

All the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The muscles that lined your back tightened. Your breath caught, body prepared for the worst while your mind hoped for the best. But, your luck has shown you how well that’ll go.

You neck creaked while it turned towards the dark alleyway. Nothing could be seen down the endless path. Either it turned off or ended towards the end.

A loud thump echoed off the walls. Your entire boy turned towards the entrance. The soft clicks of something entered the air. Your brows furrowed while you tried to deter was creating that noise. In your careless state and defense, you weren’t of sound mind. There was one thing in the world that would solve all of your issues.

It wasn’t here.

At the crest of the entrance, you eventually spotted the silhouette of a humanoid figure. Oh, not again. You took a couple of stumbling steps away and nearly fell over your own two feet. It seemed your lucky wasn’t the greatest.

Light shined off metal. Faster than a blink of an eye, your throat was snatched. Your back was pressed to a firm, hot surface. Humid heat washed over the top of your head and ran down the back of your neck. A shutter ran its course. The muscles in your body only tensing more.

Yet, in this moment, after everything that’s happened after four years… you didn’t care. Not any more.

Sharp clicks and growls vibrated into your ear. The firm grip around your throat tightened only fraction. “Mi-ne.” A voice growled that it could be felt in your bones. The declaration strong and firm.

A voice you recoginized. Your hands instantly go to the one holding you in place. Try as you may, you couldn’t tilt your head far enough back to look at the figure. But, the lack of an ache in your chest only solidified your thoughts.

This had to be him.

As your mouth opened to speak words he deserved, his free hand pressed something into your mouth. Two fingers coaxed you to swallow dryly whatever he had placed on your tongue. His palm still covered the lower portion of your face. You tried to speak and began to fight him. Anger filled your veins at not only past action, but his current ones now.

When the hands left you, you believed there was a chance for escape. Your entire body whipped around to face the towering creature. Only, for you to sway from the sudden, unwise move. Strong, capable hands grasped your shoulders before you could slam into the ground. A haze took over your mind and left you unstable.

The ground left the bottom of your feet. Then, you were hoisted onto a thick, muscular shoulder that dug into your waist and belly. The move caused you to wheeze and grab onto the a fish net like material that covered at least his toned back. “Let me go!” you screamed at the top of your lungs then began to beat on his back with clenched fists.

He takes it. Without complaint. The humanoid figure spins on his heel and lets the darkness engulf him again. Your cried for help and desperate attempt for freedom begins to fade. Whatever he forced you to ingest was starting to take effect already. Your movements turned sluggish. Every beat was weaker than the last.

“I… hate you,” was what you could say before the darkness consumed you. Your body falling limp on his shoulder.

Warmth. Comfort. Those were the first two things to greet you when your consciousness finally decided to wake up. A soft blanket swaddled your entire form and kept you safe from the lurking monsters. A groan left your lips. You squirmed in the swaddled you’ve been placed in until it loosened.

It took a monstrous amount of strength to open your eyes and blink away the fatigue sitting in your bones. What greeted you made you believe the night still claimed you.

Metal from ceiling to floor made up the room you were in. The blankets on your shoulders slipped off when you sat up to fully take in the space. Your jaw dropped. Five skulls were line on the wall behind you. All were creatures you didn’t recognize. You gulped and kept taking in the room. Weapons decorated some parts of the wall. A bean bag like chair was shoved into one corner. A fur like blanket draped over it.

That’s when you realize the blankets you had been covered with are fur from an unknown creature. You shuttered to think of all the death that was proudly displayed in here. Why… why would he take you in here? Surely, it wasn’t to kill you? No. Your head shook in the negative. He wasn’t. He would’ve already done that if so. Plus, something in your heart told you he wouldn’t harm you.

You were in the process of shuffling to your knees when the door slid open. The entire room filled with tension. It was him. Face still covered a metal mask.

He doesn’t move. The two of you engage into a staring contest.

Thoughts were running wild in your mind. From the last time you had saw him, there had been slight changes. Mainly scars. He was already adorned in them and proudly presenting them. But, more had been added to his collection. A nasty looking one started from an inch above his right collarbone and descended with small jags mostly downwards.

All of them… made him look good, despite not seeing his face yet.

Your first move was to tug the blanket tighter around you, like some sort of shield. He wasn’t terrifying. Not an ounce of fear in your heart at the sight of his towering form.

But, you were nervous, unsure of the whole situation. The most of all. You were angry. Four years. It’s taken him four years to come back into your life and decide you were worth something after all. Tears pooled in your eyes at the thought.

A glare set over your features. You sat back down on your butt and looked away from him. The creature doesn’t deserve your attention, let alone a second of your time. For all you could care, you were going to completely ignore him until he gives up. Let him feel the pain of being abandoned by the one you thought was supposed to your other half.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched at the mustard yellow figure stalked forward. Your ears strained to listen to each step as he made his way towards you. You strengthened your walls. The beast stopped at the edge of the mattress and gazed down at your figure. Then, he gingerly sat down a couple of feet away from you.

His scaly hand reached out timidly. A move you observed closely. When he got in range, you swatted at the approaching limp. The creature snatched his hand back and made an offended noise. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was looking at you as if you had grown a second head. To go against someone three times your mass was obviously stupid. Yet, here you were, protecting yourself from his touch in what could be taken in an aggressive matter.

Except, he held back and took the sign completely. The figure bowed his head. “I-I kn-ow… you are u-pset.” It sounded like he was struggling to speak English. Not as it’s a language he does not know, but like his mouth and throat can’t make the sounds well. “I have reasons. I-it shouldn’t b-e possi-ble. Can’t be.”

If his words were meant to be soothing he was doing the opposite. You hugged your knees tighter with a scoff and a roll of your eyes. You wanted to ask him the reasoning but felt like that would give him too much attention. Despite what your soul wanted since it finally get’s to see your other half again after so long.

“It’s wr-ong. You’re ooman. I’m…” he trails off and glances over at your curled up form. A position meant to protect you from incoming harm. “I’m not.”

For him to confirm your suspicions, you weren’t surprised. Not after finally getting to see him in a better light. The dark, mustard yellow of his skin was dotted with scales. The color and texture wasn’t normal. The size of him wasn’t normal. The blonde rubbery-like dreads that poured from his head weren’t normal.

“I-it’s aga-against ev-everything I know. I came back. I sh-shouldn’t have.” The masked creature made a noise of agony. One of his hands came to rub at his sterum. “But the pa-in. A-after s-so long. I grew weak. Co-uldn’t handle it. I-I ne-needed to lay e-eyes on you.” Words kept tumbling from him. Words you barely understood while he struggled with your language.

They almost, almost softened you. The same pain you endured the last four years was what he experienced as well. But, there was a difference. He purposefully abandoned you. He deserved the pain. You, on the other hand, did not.

You were only human, after all. “Where am I?” Your voice was barely about a hoarse croak.

He perked, only slight, at the sound. “My s-hip. I’ve h-idden us-us from your go-vern-ment senses behind a plan-et you ca-ll Jupiter.” Him clarifying he was an alien though, wasn’t on your list of possibilities. At least, not very high. The most you thought of him was a mutated, escaped human experiment. Not… that.

“Y-you’re an alien?” you gaped before reeling in your shock. There was no reason him to give the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Yes,” he confirmed and dipped his head. The strange, rubbery dreads slipped over his shoulders to sway. “I a-m a Yautja. No-t t-that you know w-hat that is.” You bristle at his offensive words and sent a heated glare at the alien. He brushed it off with a shrug. “My name is Cew’voc. A-and yours?” You turned your head away again as your answer. He has not earned that right to know you.

Newly named Cew’voc purred with mirth. It took every ounce of will not to spin around and punch him. How dare he laugh!

“That is-is okay. I-I can just look-k it up.” Whatever he had for a face, there had to be a smirk on it. You could hear it. You bristled against and huffed. This surely couldn’t be your soulmate.

A new silence fell over the two of you. For a moment, tense peace. Until you heard a mechanical hiss. Your head whipped over to find Cew’voc’s hands gripping the metal mask that adorned his face. Carefully, the alien tugged the cover free and let his features be revealed.

Alien. He was completely alien. Three mandibles tipped with sharp fangs protruded from where what looked to be a mouth. The mouth area had an animal like jowl but the front area was open. Similar to a person, he had a jaw. Teeth protruded from both the jaw and upper side of the mouth. Terrifying teeth that looked deadly.

Then, his eyes. Those felt like a predator was staring directly into your soul. You couldn’t help the shutter than ran its course. They were a bright, scary yellow that almost seemed to glow in the calm lighting of the room.

After you exploration of his face, you find the alien with its only upper mandible quirked up. As if he was smirking at you. You glowered.

In broken, struggling English, the Yautja spoke your name. You swiftly got on your knees to be the same height as him and pointed a finger at him. “You don’t deserve the right to say my name! You abandoned me,” you grounded out. Cew’voc simply raised a brow in your direction then amusedly shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to brush me off like that. Four years of misery because of your scared little ass running away.”

Now, that got a reaction out of him. The alien stood up to a lumbering height above you and glared down at you over his mandibles. “I am n-o co-coward. I’m Yautja. S-strong, mi-ghty.” He thumped a fist over his chest. “Do not a-cused me with fa-lsehood.”

You didn’t fear him. Not one bit. You stood up to be eye with him on the bed and got into his face. “Yes. The fuck. You are! You ran away with your tail between your legs like a little sissy crying to your mom!” Despite nearing twenty-three, you used some middle school insults that hopefully did the trick.

The anger that covered his features melted away when he slumped back with another smirk. “Oh, we may g-et alon-g yet.”

Oh, you doubted that.

[robbinghisdick]

Putting a pause to hero work didn't help Dick get more rest like he thought it would. With no financial backing from Bruce, Dick was left working as many hours as he could to afford rent and time off once the baby came. He was exhausted beyond belief and sore all over. His due date was still a solid month away and it might as well have been an eternity. He was done.

Once home, he cooked and told himself he'd worry about the dishes later. As he went to the couch, something moved in his peripheral vision. His reaction time was slow, body jerking and tripping over his own feet. The bowl fell from his hands as he prioritized catching himself on the counter. The porcelain bowl shattered as it hit the ground.

Dick glanced to his side to see Slade staring at him and his head hung with a heavy sigh. Of course he invited himself over. Why not. Looking at the broken remains of his dinner, the only thing he could currently stomach, he felt his eyes burn with incoming tears. He should've been able to catch that.

Don't be ridiculous, Dick scolded himself, it's just some noodles and a bowl. Getting angry at himself only served to make his eyes water more. He straightened up and swallowed hard.

"It's not spilt milk, but are we really going to cry over this, Grayson?" Slade asked.

Dick squeezed his hands into fists, eyes closing and taking in a deep breath. "I'm not in the mood, Slade." He hadn't been in the mood for Slade's taunts for a while now.

"No kidding."

Something in Dick snaps. "Oh fuck you!" He snarled. "Get out!

Slade seemed taken aback, hands half raised. "As ease-"

"NO! Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Dick started to storm forward, ready throw Slade out by force. "How many times do I have to tell you-"

Slade's eye narrowed and rushed forward, grabbing Dick by the shoulder. He forced the other man back a step and Dick heard the crunch of Slade's boot against broken porcelain.

Dick stared down at the floor, at the remains of his dinner and how close he had been to stepping in it bare footed.

The anger deflates into a sob.

Once the tears spill he couldn't stop them, defeated and exhausted.

"Please just go," Dick begged, hating himself for crying in front of Slade, hating the way the man was looking at him.

Unsurprisingly, Slade didn't listen. He moved Dick around the broken plate and gently pushed him towards the couch. "Go sit down. I'll clean this up."

With his breath hiccuping with sobs, Dick wasn't in the place to argue, and he really didn't feel like bending down to clean up the mess himself. He sat on the couch but continued to watch Slade as he went to open up the pantry and grabbed a broom and dustpan.

"Your due date must be getting close if you're getting this worked up over nothing," Slade unhelpfully commented as he began to sweep.

Through tears, Dick glared at him. "Well maybe I'm just tired of some weird old man not listening to me when I tell him to leave me alone."

Slade gave Dick an unimpressed look. "You've sought me out before, don't give me that." The dustpan is emptied in a trashcan before a rag was grabbed, wiping up the remainder of the mess. "Did you really just make yourself plain boiled noodles?"

"They had butter and salt..." Dick said, tensing at the judgement he felt coming from Slade. "Listen, right now I will throw up if anything has too strong of a taste or a smell." He sighed heavily, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "And I'm out of butter." So great. Couldn't even remake the meal Slade startled him into dropping.

He could hear Slade approaching, but didn't look up at him.

"Do you want me to go to the store or pick something up?"

Dick buried his face into his hands. "I want you to leave."

"Not one of the options I just gave you," Slade said, unbothered.

One of the last things Dick wanted to do was rely on Slade. He didn't want to owe him anything, he didn't want Slade to think he was needed. But Dick knew he wouldn't be able to drag himself to the store. Shame coiled heavy in his chest at the thought of reaching out to his friends for something so dumb. Slade was already here and couldn't think any lower of him.

Shoulders drooping and hands dropping away from his face, Dick relented. "Okay."

"Store?" Slade asked, continuing when Dick nodded, "Do you need anything else?"

Dick shook his head.

"The corner store is on a few minutes walk away, go ahead and boil the noodles, I won't take long."

///

Dick had calmed down by the time Slade returned and he finally got to eat. He was too tired to shrug Slade off as he joined him on the couch. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Slade was warm and was so easy to melt into.

He jolts slightly as Slade's hand touched his swollen stomach.

"When's your due date?"

Dick sighed heavily, not lifting his head from Slade's shoulder. "She's not yours," he said instead of answering the question. To be fair, there was a nearly non-existant chance that the father was a man Dick hooked up with for a one-night stand. They used protection, but that was never 100%. However... Dick knew she was Slade's. It was barely a doubt in his mind. All he could do was pray that she'd have dark hair and look nothing like Slade. Maybe if Dick kept telling him that the baby wasn't his, he'd loose interest.

"So it's a girl?"

Dick finally lifted his head to give Slade a stern look. "Whatever the baby is doesn't concern you."

Slade met Dick's gaze unwaveringly, reaching up to brush some hair out of Dick's face. "You keep telling yourself that, kid."

Dick grimaced. "Don't call me kid."

With a muttered, half-hearted apology, his hand cupped Dick's cheek and he pulled him close. Dick knew he should push Slade away, but leaned into the kiss.

More than he liked to admit, he missed being kissed. Dating and hook-ups were obviously off the table, but Dick wanted to feel the press of another body against his own. The stroke of a hand through his hair, the warm press of lips, and the caress of calloused fingers against him.

The guilt in indulging himself and Slade caught up a couple minutes later and he broke the kiss with a sigh and a turn of his head.

"Why are you here?"

"It doesn't seem like you and the Bat have made up and you're, what, seven? Eight months pregnant?" Slade tilted his head slightly. "And I imagine you haven't told many, if any, of your friends about me, so you've likely cut yourself off from them. Someone has to check on you."

At times like this, Dick was reminded how much he hated that Slade knew him, at least just enough to be entirely correct. The only people who knew about Slade were Roy and Donna. Things were already in a rough patch with Bruce before he got pregnant.

"Do you have a contract in Blüdhaven?" Dick asked, deciding to ignore what Slade said.

"No. I'm not taking contracts in Blüdhaven or surrounding cities right now."

Dick blinked, baffled. "Why?"

"You're pregnant, you can't be Nightwing," Slade answered.

For a moment, Dick stared at Slade as if waiting for the man to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Right now was literally the perfect time to take advantage of the fact that Dick physically couldn't stop him.

But there it was. With what Slade lacked in respecting boundaries, he made up for in respecting Dick as a hero. A thorn in his side he'd never actually try to take out for reasons Dick couldn't entirely understand.

"What?"

Dick felt the urge to cry again, but this time his eyes didn't water. "Why are doing this?"

Slade huffed. "You could just say thank you." He doesn't seem particularly annoyed.

You make it hard to hate you, are the words that don't leave Dick's mouth. Slade had done unforgivable things. He's hurt him, he's hurt his friends. But they've also worked together, he's seen Slade draw lines and do good. If he were a full blooded monster, it'd be easy for Dick to hate him enough to shut him out. Maybe then Slade would take him seriously when he asked him to stay away.

It wasn't love... so why was this so hard?

[lavishl0ve]

🩸Johhny Slaughter x Fem Reader🩸 (Part 2)

Part 2 continuation of my Part 1 Reader, I plan to make many more of these (which can also be read as a stand alone) but I heavily suggest reading the parts before these since I do reference some connections within previous parts! Again, these are my first fics and i’m not like an english major or whateva so i apologize if it isn’t perfect. Thank you and enjoy 🤩 (First part is on my page :)

Part 2: Scars

My dreams only remind me of the terror I wished to avoid. Ana screams echo throughout my head. I should have helped her, sacrificed myself. Maybe she could have been the one to escape. I curl into myself sitting on the rough mattress waiting, and waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not sure. May death have mercy and greet me with a cold kiss in my sleep. But death is late. I’ve lost count on how many days it's been, weeks? Each day that Johnny man swaps out my bandage, sometimes we exchange a few words but our encounters are usually in silence. With each encounter I grow with worry. Once the infection leaves my ankle is that when he’ll murder me? Oh god. Will I take Julie’s place on that meat hook..? I can’t think about it. I feel sick. Scratching interrupts my thoughts. That notifying sound of someone entering the basement, is it bad I was hoping it was Johnny? He was the only family member presenting some type of remorse or maybe it was just his job to make sure their food isn’t contaminated. Their. Food. I shake the thought. Sissy treds over and suddenly I'm disappointed. Better her than that cook though, last time he brought me food he spat in it. Safe to say I didn’t eat it. Not that the food is good anyways. She slides the plate under the small gap the bars have.

“Here Sugar.”

I look up at her giving her a small nod. Maybe I would have smiled if it wasn’t the same stew as always. But it’s better than starving…right? She stands for a moment watching me and sits down. I stare reluctantly at her.

“Go on, you’ll like it today. I made it.” She giggled.

Scooting forward I grasp the plate. It’s hot today. I take a small portion of the meat and take a bite. I chew once then twice. It’s incredibly tough, I let it linger in the back of my mouth acting like I swallowed it. She laughs again.

“How’s that red headed friend of yours taste?”

She mocks me poiking her razor blade through the bar so that it's mere inches from my face. I spit the chewed meat at her,

“You fucking monster!” I yell and I throw my plate at her.

shards of porcelain shatter on the floor from the impact, a few shards cutting her stew stained face.

She grabs my shirt through the bar hitting my head against the iron bars

“You fuckin’ bitch.” She screams, shaking me against the bars.

She takes her razor blade and slices right underneath my left eye.

“Eye for a fuckin’ eye.” she scowls, “Next time it’ll be more than that.”

She throws me on the ground, some of the chipped porcelain pieces cutting my legs. She leaves. I occupy my time picking the shards out of my legs.

—————————————————————-

I wake up to the thud of his boots approaching. Death had not visited me tonight. Unless Johnny is death. I see him walk towards the cell looking at the shards on the ground. He groans. Maybe he knows what happened. Entering, I face toward the opposite wall hiding the cut Sissy had given me. Maybe I'll just let this one get infected and die. He sits on the mattress right next to me removing the same compact tin and gauze again. I refuse to face him. He takes my ankle and unwraps the gauze himself.

“It’s better.” He remarks.

He goes through the daily process , applying the topical cream, then wrapping it up. He sighs.

“You’se alright sweetheart?” He questions.

“Don’t let er’ scare you.” He glances over left toward my face.

He saw the dried blood that had ran along my cheek. He grabs my chin with two fingers and turns my head to see the cut better.

“Fuckin’ Sissy.” He hissed through his teeth.

Johnny rose and stomped out the basement without another word. You didn’t hear the scratch of the door close though. Maybe this is my time to escape! But how the hell will I get out? I reach outside the bars fumbling with the lock. Impossible without a key… or a bobby pin. Digging into your messy hair hoping to find a remaining pin you used the day you guys got caught. It took some time but it was there. I unfold the bobby pin and inserting it into the lock trying to hear those “clicks” Connie talks about. I was never as good as Connie, although she tried to teach me, I had always got frustrated. I twist around the pin, unable to hear the noise. I click my tongue in frustration. I try to remove the pin, trying to restart. It snaps. Fuck. You throw the pin on the ground and sit back against the cold wall.

Johnny yells, “The hell you do to er’ Sissy?”

“She jus’ needed a lil’ lesson Johnny.” She replies, “Was actin’ like a bitch.”

Some words were muffled, at the end of their argument Johnny's words were loud enough to echo throughout the whole house.

“Don’t cha’ go on touchin’ my fuckin’ things Sissy!” he yells, “Or ya’ gonna get it worse than er’.”

You hear a door slam.

——————————————————————

The next morning you awaken to Johnny banging on the cell.

“Wake up.”

I rub my eyes, vision coming into view. Johnny unlocks the cell and grabs your wrist.

“Cmon’.”

“What- where are we going?” you ask.

You’ve never been out of the cell. Is this the end of your demise? Johnny clecthes some sort of emerald green fabric in his left hand. He leads you throughout the house towards the back walking through the kitchen, the sink stained red at the glance you get. We step outside, it’s still dark out, my bare feet touch the grass and I breathe in the fresh air. Finally, a nice change. He leads you toward the same shed which you first encountered him in. Pulling the switch on to turn on the lights you make out the space. Some kinda workshop of his I assume. He walks you through the side door which opens toward the back. He shoves a hose into your hand.

“Clean yourself off.”

Stunned you just stare at him, you can’t see much since the darkness covers his face. You wait.

“You gonna turn around…?” I ask uncomfortably.

“I gotta make sure you don’t run away sweetheart.”

You feel your cheeks blush, but you can’t resist a shower. (A somewhat shower). You walk a few steps from him. Facing away, you take off your shirt, then your underwear. Since you can’t see him he surely can’t see you right? At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turn the knob right and the cold water splashes immediately at your feet. You whince at the sudden shock, Johhny laughs under his breath.

“It ain’t gettin’ any hotter, make it quick.”

I suck it up and point the hose over my head dousing my hair, I bite the inside of you cheek. The water runs down my spine. I coat my hair, wash the dried blood off my cheek, thighs and scrap the stew remanents off on hands. Wow how I miss warm showers. I look back towards johnny he leans against the barn, cigarette in mouth, he glances back over like he knew I was watching him. I turned around finishing my “shower”. As I turned the knob off I hear johnny shift off the shed wall.

“ ere’.” He say’s cigarette in mouth.

He throws me the emerald cloth he’s been holding. I unfold it revealing some short dress. Probably Sissy’s. I pull the fabric over my head, then squeeze out the excess water in my hair. I walk back towards Johnny.

“So,” I pause, “Back to the cellar now?” I shrug.

“Naw’.” He throws the cigarette to the ground grinding it with his boot.

I’m taken aback as he walks away, I assume he intends I follow him. I quicken my steps with little hops and skips, the dirt collecting on my wet feet.

“Where we going?” I ask quickening my pace trying to catch up with him.

Johnnys strides are long, almost double mine. I skip every now and then just to catch up. He stays silent to my question. As we approach some junkyard filled a bunch of old rusted cars Johnny strides over to the back of an truck and puts down the cargo-bed hopping on the edge as he pulls out another cigarette. I stand there, what do I do? I take a moment then just decide to do the same, dangling my feet as he stares . He offers me the box,

“Oh no, I don’t-“

He nods and snatches the box away back into his pocket. The sun rises over the horizon painting his face a lovely orange and golden color. I study Johnny more in depth, his dark eyes stare into the sunset. Wow. Am I crazy? Or is he strangely attractive. A piece of his slicked hair falls in front of his face as he leans down towards his red lighter igniting his cigarette. His nose is so perfectly straight, jaw, hand sculpted. No Y/N stop. This is insane. I avert my attention towards the sunset hoping it’d change my thoughts but it can’t. I can feel him staring at me. He drops his head back down holding his cigarette between his legs as his forearms rest on his thighs. His forearms. I glance at them. Scar-covered. I decide to break the silence.

“How’d you get those?”

He scoffs, “Which ones?”

“These.” I trace the scars on his upper bicep.

“Barfight.” he mutters puffing his smoke again.

“Well… you’d win?”

He scoffs, “I always~ win Darlin’.”

The way he dragged out his S sent me into spiral. What is wrong with me?

“What about this?” I ask pointing to his left hand.

“Nubbins. He’d always set up traps when we ‘er kids.” He pauses, “Left a pretty good god damn mark.”

I nod agreeing with him.

“I’d suppose yours will leave more though’.” He winks and nods toward my ankle.

I purse my lips together.

“How about this one?” I ask moving his strand of hair, hinting at the scar going down his eye.

His eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t answer. Serious subject. We sit there for a minute.

“My Maw’…”

We stare at each other for a moment. His puffs the cigarette again, jumping off the cargo-bed. Did I fuck this up?

“We outta go back inside before they know I brought chu’ out.”

I jump down, “Back to the cellar?” I sigh.

A simple Mhmm rumbles between his lips. I look back towards the sunrise soaking up each ounce I could receive. Who knows if this is my last time seeing the sun, let alone the sun rise. But in the end, I guess beautiful things aren’t meant to last.

[hannahssimblr]

Thinking about my story again because I love 2 do that, but sometimes it's really cool having, like, reference material for a story, and something to base the events on, because both these scenes were based on a singular conversation that Evie has with Shane in chapter 3.12 of Lucky Girl

Lucky Boy 2010

“In the evenings, we’ll play PlayStation games and watch TV with the gang, where, from our spot at the back of the room she will lean into me during the scariest part of the horror flick where the dreaded monster reveals itself, and whisper, “Is that you?” We will stifle laughter with our sleeves until tears roll down our cheeks, and once the giddiness has subsided, and those who have thrown us filthy looks turn away, I will risk a secret glance. She’ll be wiping her eyes, the room so dark that I can barely see her face, and I’ll know, beyond any doubt, that I would already be kissing her if there was nobody else in the room.”

.....

“Butt shorts?” “Yeah, man, that’s what we call your friend Evie,” says Joe. “It’s ‘cause she’s always got those shorts on, and you can kinda see the crease of her arse cheeks in them.” “Bit of a fucked up way to refer to a girl, do you not think?”

“A girl like that is wasted on someone like you. You think you can be picky, but you’re too picky for your own good. Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do to her…”  He launches into a monologue, outlining things too vulgar to be said out loud around normal and respectable folk, but are somehow perfectly acceptable to say to me. He goes into specific detail about her legs, her lovely long legs, and the positions he’d like to put them while I scrub at a plate so hard that my hand starts cramping. 

“Jesus Christ, Joe.” I whirl on him, and the plate, still in my hands, slips, and shatters on the floor, sending shards of porcelain and blobs of soap flying in all directions. I falter, startled by the violence of it. He shuts up. The mop stops. The bin bags stop rustling.  “Fuck sake, what is wrong with you? Why do you think everyone wants to hear your weird, perverted thoughts all of the time?” He cowers against the draining board. “I thought you said you were a peaceful person.” “Do you want to fight me?”

Lucky Girl 3.12

“Come on, Evie. Everyone knows he dies for you. The only person who doesn’t know it is apparently you. He goes weak when you’re around. We used to make fun of him because he’d get all embarrassed whenever you came up in conversation, and there was this time that he started on Joe over something he said…” “What did Joe say?” “Um. Something about your shorts, or your legs or something, I don’t remember.” Shane goes a bit red. “And Jude like, I suppose, he kind of implied that there was something wrong with Joe if he was thinking that everyone else would want to hear his thoughts about you.” // “And I remember the two of ye back then too, always giggling about something in the corner, pointing at the ugliest things on TV or in magazines and saying ‘that’s you’ and all that, thinking ye were gas. The feeling was clearly mutual between ye, it just doesn’t make any sense why you’d sabotage it now when you have the chance to see if it’ll work out between you.”

[yes-divine-ruler]

Stan Bowes (Evan Peters in Pose) x Fem!Reader Smut - “Daddy Issues” (18+)

CW: oral (both receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, daddy kink, affair

Words: 1647

Nobody would be on your side if you told them you were in love with a married man. All you were to everyone else was a home-wrecker, a naive child who didn’t know the damage she was doing.

Yet you stood in the apartment he bought you, making a meal with the groceries he paid for, drinking a glass of fine wine that he had brought to you a week ago. You could never do all this on your own. You did feel bad for his wife and children, but you’d feel worse if you never saw him again, and maybe you were selfish for that. Something about Stan Bowes was extraordinary, his handsome face and his toned, sculpted body, the way he treated you was not like any man your age would or could. He sent fresh flowers to your door every morning, and made sure he’d call you if he didn’t have time to come and see you, most of the time.

Being Stan Bowes’ little secret was the best thing in the world, until it wasn’t. You had to share the man of your dreams with a part of his life you weren’t apart of. The part of his life where he was a father, a husband, a son. Where he had responsibilities and priorities.

You waited patiently by your kitchen counter for the door bell to ring, tapping your acrylic nails on the marble until it drove you crazy. Stan was half an hour late already, the dinner you’d made him beginning to go cold. Sighing to yourself, you took your glass of red to the sofa and sunk down on it. You pulled out your mobile phone, tempted to send yet another message asking where he was, and when he’d be here.

When an hour passed, you gave up, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at your sad dinner arrangement, the tea lights in the centre of the table burnt to the end of their wicks, your wine bottle now empty. You threw your phone across the room, and let out an angry scream. This was the third night in a row he’d made arrangements to come and see you and didn’t show up.

You start to circle your apartment, pushing the plates off the dining table and onto the floor, tearing the sheer curtains off the curtain rods. You hit the mirror in the bathroom, causing it to shatter, your knuckles bloodied from the sharp glass. Were you really that unimportant that he’d forgotten about you three nights in a row?

That’s when the door bell rang and you hurried out of the bathroom to answer it, fixing your hair and dusting off your silk slip dress like nothing happened as you opened the door. Stan stood there, his face nothing short of apologetic as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You hugged him back, melting into the scent of his expensive cologne, running a hand through his short hair.

“Baby I’m so sorry, I got caught up at work,” he mumbled into your hair as he pulled away to look at you.

“Are you okay? What the fuck happened?”he grabbed onto your bloodied hands, his eyes darting behind you at your trashed apartment.

“Nothing,” you hiccuped, the wine suddenly rushing to your head as Stan looked at you with a look of horror.

“Y/N, what the fuck happened?” He repeated himself slowly, pushing passed you and entering the apartment. You sighed and closed the door behind you, watching as he stepped over cracked porcelain plates and spilled Alfredo with his polished dress shoes.

“Did someone break in?”

He turned to look at you, your face stained with guilt.

“I’m sorry Stan, I got angry, I thought you weren’t coming again,” you bit your lip as his face twisted in anger.

“You can’t just fucking trash the apartment every-time I don’t come and see you, I have a fucking family Y/N, and they come first I told you that,” he ran a hand through his hair as a salty tear trailed down your cheek.

“But Stan-”

“Do you not realise everything I fucking do for you? You’re such an ungrateful brat,” he seethed, walking passed you to the front door and grabbing his coat on the way out.

“Stan please don’t go I’ll fix this I promise,” you begged, grabbing onto his arm before he left your apartment, “I’m so sorry daddy.”

He turned to you, his eyes still filled with rage but totally captivated by his pet name. It rung in his ears like sweet honey, the blood rushing straight to his cock as it came out your pretty lips.

You noticed Stan standing there frozen, and knew you’d said the right thing to make him stay.

“Come on, I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sorry,” you said just above a whisper, coming into his chest and loosening his red striped tie with your fingers, “you just need some loving right now.”

You shut the door behind Stan with your foot as he took a step back into your apartment. You pulled on the collar of his shirt and connected your lips. He fed on your seduction shamelessly, his fingernails clawing into your hips through your silk dress as he pulled you closer. Your tongue entered his warm mouth, tugging on his hair as his hands lifted up your dress.

You broke the kiss for a moment, Stan’s eyes shut firmly as he felt your body, “come to bed, daddy,”

You took his hand and pulled him to your bedroom, pushing him down on the bed as soon as you entered. He laid there, mesmerised by his mistress, as you slipped off the thin straps of your dress to reveal your bare breasts. He moaned as you straddled his lap, unbuttoning each of the buttons on his dress shirt agonisingly slow.

You leaned down to suck on the skin of his neck, your hands working at the zipper of his slacks and pulling it down. You palmed him through his underwear, not surprised to feel a wet patch of pre cum at the tip of his rock hard erection.

“M’gonna suck daddy’s cock, I’ll show you I’m a good girl,” you purred, kissing down to his stomach and then to the front of his underwear. His bottom lip wedged between his teeth as he watched you pull out his cock and lick a stripe from the base to the tip. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, letting out a loud moan as his eyes closed from the pleasure he was receiving.

You took his erection in your mouth, holding the base with your hand as they worked together in synchronicity on his shaft. His cock was covered in your saliva as you pushed your head down to take his whole length. He moaned as you gagged on it, before pulling up for a breath.

“Come here,” he muttered, motioning you over with his fingers. You came up off his cock, and inched your face closer to his. He kissed you, his hands slipping up your dress again to grip onto your bare ass.

“Sit on daddy’s face,” he breathed out, lifting up your dress for you and pulling it over your head. He almost came just from seeing you naked. You obliged, straddling his head with your thighs as you felt his tongue slip between your wet folds. He took your clit in your mouth, the action causing you to let out a small whimper, his hands still cupping the soft skin on your ass. He continued his sensual assault between your legs, his tongue lapping at your arousal as you started to grind on his face. He dipped his tongue into your entrance, his nose pressing up against your clit as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Daddy you’re gonna make me cum!” You squealed, as you finally felt your release, grinding on Stan’s face as he pleasures you through your climax.

He pressed a few gentle kisses to your heat before you climbed off his face, his chin covered in your juices and his own saliva.

You stuck out your tongue, and licked from his chin to his mouth, tasting yourself on his face.

“You’re such a naughty fucking girl,” he growled, his cock almost weeping against his stomach and begging to be paid attention to.

“Only for you,” you cooed back, pressing your wet entrance against his cock and slicking it with your arousal. He gripped onto your hips again, pulling you up so he could slide his cock in.

When you felt it, you almost came again there and then. He stretched you out with his impressive length, your cunt eating up his cock hungrily, the tip almost hitting your cervix.

You began to bounce on his cock, throwing your head back as he marvelled at your breasts, your nipples hard from excitement and titillation.

“My god, you ride my cock like such a little slut,” he praised, as his cock entered you again and again.

“Is daddy gonna cum for his little slut?” You replied, biting on your lip as he grabbed onto your breasts, circling his thumb and pointer finger around your nipples.

“Holy shit baby, fuck-” his eyes screwed shut as his lips parted, letting out words of profanity and low moans as he came inside you. You rode him until he gripped your hips to stop, and then leaned down to his face again.

You kissed him softly, as he hummed in content from your prior activities.

“You, little miss, are paying for those repairs, I hope it teaches you a lesson,” he said with a small smile, as you got off him to lay at his side.

“Yes daddy I’m sorry,” you pout, as he laughs and kisses your head softly.

Taglist: @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @black-dragon-posting & @socially-awkward-skeleton ❤️

A Sabrina POV time. Girl felt like breaking some rules.

"John's room is locked. He's either ignoring me when I knocked and called for him, or he's not in there.", Savannah announced with disappointment as she entered the kitchen after going upstairs to notify John about breakfast being ready. "I told you it's quite late, so he's probably left for work already, Sav. Mathias is outside again." "Why is he acting so weird?", her sister scrunched her nose, observing Sabrina closely while she set down their plates at the table, "And shouldn't you be at work, too, Rin-Rin?" "I-", she hated she had to lie yet again, that she was breaking the pact of honesty the two had made, but with the current situation she felt like she had no other choice, "I took a little break, we don't have as many cases as we did in Portland. I'd rather spend my time with you, pumpkin, than chase some cattle that got loose. As for John… he just has other things on his mind. Nothing you have to worry about, okay?" It was the only answer she could offer, especially when it came down to figuring someone like John out. She wanted to spare Savannah as much from the gruesome details as she could, knew that it would be for the better if she wasn't too aware of the actual danger everyone in the County was in or that the man she believed to be a hero was in reality the most hated and feared person in the region. Telling her the full truth would only hurt her, make her feel unsafe at the ranch. "Do you want to bring his plate out to Mathias? No reason to have the food go to waste." Savannah nodded, grabbing the dish and rushing over to the front door, Sabrina heard her cheerfully call out "Morning, Benny." before it closed behind her. It wasn't long before her sister returned with a smile on her face, her mood seemingly improved at the interaction with the Peggie, "Benny smiled at me and said thank you!" "That's amazing, pumpkin.", Sabrina beamed at her excitement, the knowledge Mathias was being nicer to her helped her breathe easier. Breakfast was another precious opportunity to escape back to the days before Joseph's arrest so Sabrina tried to tune out every concern that emerged at their uncertain future as they two chatted away as usual and set on making plans for how they'd spend the day. "Okay, Sav, I'm going to wash those and we can head out again, maybe we can see-", Sabrina got up from the table, carrying the dishes over to the sink when a vision happened.

The entry to Rae-Rae's farm. Eden's Gate trucks barrelling into its driveway, then John's men getting out and approaching the house. Rae-Rae being dragged outside and forced to kneel on the ground as they led Boomer out by his collar. A Peggie locking him in a cage, screaming, "The mutt bit me!" as he kicked the door to the enclosure with hatred. Rae-Rae's loyal companion barking restlessly, trying to break out, sensing the danger looming over his owner. "You're time for Confession has come, Sinner. There's nowhere to run now." Rae-Rae lunging at the Peggie in front of her, shouting, "Fuck you all! You're not taking my land or Boomer. OVER MY DEAD BODY." Shots ringing out. Her body collapsing down in the mud, blood quickly pooling beneath her and staining her blonde hair. Lifeless eyes staring back at nothingness.

"Rin-Rin!", Savannah called out, pulling at her hand as the grizzly scene faded away and she found herself back in the kitchen. Sabrina's eyes shifted from her sister's worried expression down to broken porcelain pieces that somehow by pure luck had missed her bare feet when the plates had shattered on the floor. "Are you okay?", her sister asked and wrapped her arms around her waist, "Was it a vision? You weren't responding for so long, I got scared. I'm sorry if I pulled you out too soon." "I'm okay, Sav, you did nothing wrong. I saw enough, I promise.", Sabrina hurried to reassure her, despite still feeling miles away and on edge as she stroked her hair gently. Rae-Rae is going to die at the hands of John's men. Her sense of justice told her she couldn't allow it to happen, that she couldn't watch from the sidelines as the Project took more innocent people's lives over Joseph's twisted beliefs. I have to warn her, tell her to grab Ryan and Boomer and run while she has the chance. Maybe there's still hope. There's always time to act before a vision occurs. Minutes, hours, days, sometimes months or years if I'm lucky. I have to try. As her gaze met Savannah's, her mind was made up, embracing the fact she was about to risk their safety and sneak out in hopes of finding a way to reach the pumpkin farm and save Rae-Rae. "Sav, I need to do something, but I'm going to need your help.", she felt her sister nod against her side.

Sabrina bent down and quickly gathered the broken pieces off the floor. Her thoughts raced at the risky plan and the dire consequences it would bring if anything was to go wrong. Chances were she could run straight into a patrol the second she'd make it off the property. A part of her whispered how John would break off their deal, that she'd end up back in the godawful cell in his bunker. "Worry about Savannah, Deputy." No. "What do I need to do, Rin-Rin?", Savannah looked at her in determination, putting an end to her inner turmoil. "Remember Rae-Rae, the nice lady I was telling you about? Boomer's owner?" "Yes, you promised we'd visit her farm sometimes…" "I saw her in the vision, Sav, she's- she's in danger and I have to warn her." "Okay.", her sister chewed on her lip nervously, "Can we … call her?" Sabrina shook her head, knowing the phone in the living room was of no use, "She wouldn't have signal, because the lines are down." Savannah blinked slowly, realization downing on her as she processed her words, "Mrs. Darcy said the same. We can go then? Go to the farm." "I will, Sav. Alone." "Why? Can't you just ask John for help?" "I wish, but I can't. He's worried about us with all the Peggies around, wants us to stay put so he knows we would be safe. He wouldn't be happy at the idea. It's why he has left Mathias outside to keep watch. If he finds out I'm gone he would tell John… and he would be upset."

"So… are you going to sneak out then?" Sabrina took a deep breath, "I have a plan… When you go out to get his plate back, you have to act like nothing's wrong, okay? We can't risk him coming in and finding the ranch empty if he decides to return it on his own. Once you're back inside I will sneak through the back." Savannah nodded along, a calculating gleam similar to their mother's appearing in her gaze. "While I'm gone, you're going to stay upstairs, in our room. Lock the door and if he for any reason decides to check on us, you tell him I'm taking a bath. If they figure out I'm gone, you only respond you don't know where I went, okay? It would buy me time.", Sabrina took hold of her shoulders, "I will be back before you know it." "Okay.", Savannah gave her a small smile in response. "I just need you to be quiet, avoid raising suspicion, and stay safe, while I return, do you think you can do that, pumpkin?" "Of course, Rin-Rin. You know I will! You go help Rae-Rae.", her sister's eyes were shining with conviction. "Okay, give me a minute to go up and grab some things." While it was risky to leave the ranch and it effectively meant breaking John's only rule, asking for permission or relaying her vision to him was absolutely out of the question. What do I tell him?"Hey, John, your men are about to kill this sweet woman in cold blood. You're going to save her for me, right? Right?" No matter how much hope her visions of him provided, she couldn't allow them to fool her into relying on him completely. Any of their talks had proven to her he truly believed everything was unfolding as intended, so chances were he would refuse to help her, maybe even laugh at her for thinking he'd care.

His dedication to his brother's cause meant he would consider it the Will of "God" for Rae-Rae, a Sinner, to die for being against the Project. It would be a similar price to what Whitehorse and the others had paid for defying Joseph. Rae-Rae's life wouldn't be significant to someone that kept so many as prisoners. To someone that believed he was helping eradicate people's sins through torture. How would a believer take the fact I'm working against fate? Trying to change the course of things? No, in a situation where their interests weren't aligned, she could only really count on herself, especially when she had placed too much trust in him already. An array of dark thoughts plagued her brain as she rushed to her bedroom and quickly changed into a pair of grey jeans, throwing on a canvas jacket over the black top she was already wearing. She tied her bangs back and hid the grey sections of her hair under a ball cap, hoping it would enough to conceal her identity. Before she headed back downstairs, she pulled out the duffel bag and took out two of her throwing knives from her bag, securing them to her belt before grabbing her boots and making sure John's knife was still where she had stashed it away. Savannah was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, "Mr. Fluffles and I are ready for the mission." A smile emerged despite how on uneasy she felt, "I'm ready, Sav. Go grab the plate."

She watched her sister head to the front door with sure strides, appearing absolutely carefree as she opened the door and called out for Mathias in a sweet tone, "Benny, did you like breakfast?" Bennett mumbled something out and whatever it was it made Savannah laugh. "Bye, friend. Stay in the shade!", the door shut with a soft click, followed by her footsteps as she returned to where Sabrina was standing. She presented the empty plate triumphantly, "He finished it all. I guess John wasn't lying when he said Benny wasn't angry." "Of course, Sav. Who could ever be angry at this cute face?", Sabrina lowered her voice, "I'm leaving now, okay? You drop that plate in the sink and head upstairs. Remember the plan." Her sister nodded, giving her a hug before whispering, "I love you, be careful." "I love you too. I will be right back.", Sabrina held her tight, guilt over leaving her alone swooping in, but she couldn't sit back and spend a carefree afternoon outside, knowing Rae-Rae was going to die. The visions came to her for a reason, they were a gift as Scott Donovan used to say and bore hope that something out there was looking out for people and had decided to give her a purpose. With the Project taking over she had to take matters into her own hands, protect anyone she could from it. It's what her father would have done, without a question, no matter how much danger it would present for him. Inaction was not an option. It was exactly why Joseph's influence had grown so much in the County: Whitehorse refused to rock the boat despite how serious of a threat the cult had become and how many laws they had broken over the years.

Sabrina put on her boots and sneaked out through the back of the ranch, breaking into a run for the treeline the second the door closed behind her. She used the pines and dense vegetation at the back of the house as cover as she trekked into a straight line, following the landing strip she had spotten from the truck when John first brought them there. Eventually, after walking for a while she reached a main road and remained out of sight while she waited for a car to drive by. The plan was to flag down anything that's not marked as belonging to Eden's Gate. Ten anguishing minutes passed and she was starting to question if she should head further along on foot, when she spotted a red pick-up truck. Without a second thought she popped out of her hiding spot, waving her hands and the car came to a halt next to her, the window rolling down and revealing a dark skinned woman that seemed around her age. Sabrina scanned her attire that was as far from a Peggie as it could get, from the camo shirt and the american flag she used as a scarf to her hat with a scope symbol that covered her black hair. "Well, you're not a Peggie. Quite a strange sight to see on this road.", the woman remarked matter-of-factly. "I need a ride to Rae-Rae's. Are you headed that way?", Sabrina shot her a smile, wondering if she would need to explain why she was so close to the ranch especially at such hostile times. "No, I was going to Fall's End, but I guess I can make a small detour. Get in, girl, before we have company crawling up our asses." "Thank you."

Sabrina climbed into the passenger's seat and the truck peeled off the road just as she was buckling her seatbelt. "Name's Grace. Grace Armstrong. What's yours?" "Blythe.", she lied, offering her middle name, worried about the potential consequences of using her first and how much the locals knew about what had occured at the arrest. Do they blame us for the whole mess? For giving Joseph an excuse to finally strike and take over? Grace nodded, "I'd ask you what you were doing so close to John's Ranch, but I doubt I'd get a real answer. If I were you, I'd stay as far away as possible from him. He ain't one to be messed with, especially not now." "Noted." "Though, have to say, many would be happy if you made his day a tad bit worse, me included. Bastard sure has been making ours hell since the goddamn Reaping." Sabrina bit her lip and nodded, not saying anything at her assumption. They rode in silence, driving through Fall's End when a sight in front of the Spread Eagle gave her a pause: a familiar black jeep was parked in one of the spots and she craned neck back to check the license plate, but it was too late. Leslie? No way, can't be. She wanted to laugh at the idea he'd be in Hope County, though she couldn't deny she missed him, that she missed Portland and the uncomplicated life she had there.

The truck followed a route Sabrina knew quite well and every few minutes they'd pass by an Eden's Gate vehicle or a Peggie holding hostages roadside, to a point it felt like the roads were crawling with more cultists than the woods with wildlife. Before everything had gone to hell, she hadn't seen so many in such frequent intervals ever. Grace finally spoke up again as she came to a stop near Rae-Rae's, "I'm dropping you off here. Gotta ask, are you gonna be okay on your own? The Peggies are running rampant, rounding up people that have been giving John Seed a hard time. Rae-Rae's most likely on that list." "I will stay out of trouble, just checking in on a friend, that's all.", Sabrina opened the door and climbed down, "Thank you, Grace. You're a life saver." "Good luck, girl. You ever need a sniper, I'm one radio call away.", Grace saluted her as she turned the truck around and sped away. "God, I hope I'm on time, Rae-Rae.", Sabrina took a deep breath, breaking into a sprint towards the cover the trees offered in attempt to avoid any Peggies spotting her from the road.

Eventually, she reached the turn leading up to the farm and the sight of a man that was unmistakeably a member of the Project standing in the middle of the path made her blood freeze. His presence was a bad omen, a bitter confirmation that she either was already out of time or her window of opportunity was closing. No. Am I too late? She gripped one of her knives in her hand as she approached him quietly, the plan was to try to subdue him, to not shed unneeded blood especially with her already breaking her promise to John, but facing the man unarmed seemed like a dangerous idea. She grabbed him swiftly, cutting his oxygen flow while whispering, "Go to sleep, I don't want to kill you, okay?" The Peggie struggled, trying to grab at her hands, but at the end failed. As he fell unconscious, Sabrina released the breath she was holding and checked his pockets. "Zip-ties? Why, thank you. You shouldn't have.", she said to his sleeping form and dragged him off the road in case anyone decided to look for him. After grabbing his pistol and tying him to a tree, she hurried further up the path to the farm, feeling ten times more tense than when she had gotten off Grace's truck. As she neared her destination, she could hear cult music playing and John's booming voice coming from somewhere close by, the recording was a harsh reminder of the side of him that had her strapped to a chair few days back and no doubt looked forward to torturing her for information. His tone in the address was full of calculation, it was the same one he had used when he had tried to convince her Whitehorse had bad intentions for making her arrest Joseph.This John was the man that smiled at her cunningly from every billboard, that spoke of sin in every wretched broadcast, that stood behind his brother and did his best to keep him out of legal trouble. It was a role he had been playing for a long time, a mask he wore with confidence but also a mask that had slipped enough times in her presence to give her hope.

"The Project of Eden's Gate would provide salvation. Do not be afraid, God has graced us with an opportunity to start anew, you just have to welcome the word of the Father into your hearts."

He began quoting Joseph like he was a prophet, and the certainty in his words made her skin craw. You're a true believer, John. Perhaps too far gone. Maybe there's no light left for me to find. No. Hope is all I have, I have to believe. Not in Joseph, but in my visions. She kept her weapon trained ahead and soon enough made it to the fence of Rae-Rae's property. Boomer's continuous barking mixed with the Eden's Gate propaganda and the visual of the house with its surrounding structures all pushed her pick up her pace. What met her eyes next was carnage. Death all around her. I'm too late, indeed. There were so many bodies on the ground, blood pooling beneath them. The light sweaters of the peggies were turning red, masking the crimson crosses on them. "Rae-Rae? Ryan?", she called out, knowing it was foolish to think she'd get a response, but she couldn't help holding onto the sliver of hope that somehow the woman had made it. That whoever had killed John's people had managed to save her just in time. Sabrina found Rae-Rae in the exact spot where she'd seen her in her vision. Her body was cold, the gentle eyes that greeted her anytime she'd come by- devoid of life. The woman that had been nothing but kind to her from her first visit to the farm and would never let her leave before having some of her homemade sweet tea was gone. She'd never get to hug her own son again or meet Savannah. The Project had taken yet another soul.

"I'm sorry, Rae-Rae. I'm so sorry.", she whispered, failing to hold back her tears when she took off her jacket and covered her still form with it. Boomer's whining pulled her out of her despair, reminded her she could at least get him to safety. The cage from her vision stood a few feet behind her, his paws desperately scratched at its door that was latched with a lock. "I'm coming, boy.", Sabrina exclaimed and rushed over, a note stuck to the bars grabbing her attention as climbed over the trailer cart's platform. She ripped it off in a haste and scanned over the writting on the page.

"This dog's a champion. Send it to our stronghold across the street and have it shipped North. We'll let my brother decide how strong it really is." - John

"I can't believe you, Seed. Can't even use the "champion"'s name. You sent them here. You put this in motion.", she whispered and tried to ignore the ache she felt at the confirmation John had something to do with Rae-Rae's death. She could picture him giving the orders in his matter-of-fact voice, not for one second considering the fact Boomer was more than just some dog, that he was the County's beloved hero, considered a part of a family. To John he was a "thing". Something to be shipped off, then used against innocent people that wanted nothing to do with the Project. "Hey, Boomer, it's me. I'm here, buddy, I'm going to get you out.", she spoke in a soothing tone, trying her best to settle him down, "This might be loud, boy.", she trained her pistol at the lock, just as she felt a barrel of another gun press into her back, then a gruff voice rang out behind her. "Drop the weapon and turn around, I won't ask ya twice." Fuck.

Tagging @direwombat @clicheantagonist @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @vampireninjabunnies-blog @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @poisonedtruth @cassietrn @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @nightwingshero @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @florbelles @neonneurons and anyone with something to share ❤️

[wildestflowrs]

A little bit of Ronance angst (with a fluff ending, I’m not a monster) because I love to make myself sad.

This is the ficlet I was referring to in this post 👀

Word count: 2,078

This isn’t right. They never fight , not this badly anyway, not this painfully.

It starts over such a stupid thing, too; a phone call from Steve.

Robin walks into the kitchen after putting the phone down, Nancy humming and hovering around the stove cooking one of their favourites; chicken Alfredo pasta. She hears Robin sigh and take a seat on the counter and looks up, finding her girlfriend with a pensive look.

“What were you and Steve talking about?” Nancy tries to lighten the mood, that had suddenly become weirdly tense, like clouds going grey before it storms.

“It’s nothing, Nance,” Robin mumbles, “dinner smells great though,”

There’s a minute or two of strained silence before Nancy breaks it again.

“Is everything alright, Rob?”

Robin snaps, “I told you, it’s fine, Nancy,”

Taken aback, Nancy puts down the wooden spoon she’s stirring the pasta with and gives Robin a look, crossing her arms. There’s something Robin’s not telling her, something bothering her and it’s driving Nancy mad that her girlfriend won’t let her help.

“Rob,” she says, in more of a stern tone than she intended.

“Nance, don’t push it, alright?” Robin’s voice is slightly raised, and she gets off the counter and storms off to the bedroom.

Later, they eat dinner in silence, the only conversation between them a muttered ‘thank you’ from Robin and Nancy’s quiet ‘you’re welcome’ in response. It feels unnatural, almost unreal that the atmosphere around them is so vastly different than when it usually is. The tension only builds, like a fraying rope pulled taut. It’s when they are washing up that the rope snaps.

Robin’s just finished drying a plate, walking over to the cupboard to put it away when Nancy hears it shatter. She flicks around, and Robin is on the floor, scraping pieces of porcelain into her hands.

“Rob, don’t, you’ll hurt yourse-”

“Just leave me be, Nance, god,”

Nancy snaps back, “What’s up with you? You’ve been off since you called Steve, and for whatever reason you’re adamant on not telling me what’s wrong!” She’s louder than she anticipated, and falters slightly, after pang of guilt for shouting at her girlfriend.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be in such a bad mood if you didn’t keep poking at something that doesn’t concern you!” Robin’s yelling now, and this time Nancy doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the volume.

“Doesn’t concern me? I’m your girlfriend, Rob, and if you’re not okay then I want to be able to help!”

“Well, you’re not helping,” Robin stands, leaving the porcelain in a pile on the floor, “I don’t need you to help and I don’t want you to help, so keep your nose out of it,”

Nancy just stands there, silent, so Robin continues. “Steve and I have been through shit, shit you won’t understand. You don’t have to know the ins and outs of everything, Jesus, Nancy,” Regret twinges in Robin’s gut.

The words sting like cleaning a fresh cut, but Nancy doesn’t waver; rubbing salt in the wound. “Oh, well if you can’t confide in me why don’t you go to Steve’s? I’m sure he’d love to deal with your bullshit just like he always does, because you don’t seem to trust me enough for that,”

“Trust? I’ve trusted you, followed all of your crazy shots in the dark and dumb plans, never questioning your judgement, but I don’t share one thing with you and you freak the fuck out,”

Nancy’s face is hot, her eyes sting, “Robin, you’re being such an asshole,” She takes a step towards her girlfriend, “I’m sorry my concern for you is imposing on all the ‘shit’ you and Steve have been through, must be too much for me considering I’ve been dealing with ‘shit’ for twice as long as you have,”

“It’s personal, Nancy, I don’t push you to talk about Henry, or the hospital, or Barb!” Robin knows it’s a low blow, feels guilt seeping out of her gut as soon as the words leave her mouth. She bites her tongue so hard she can faintly taste blood.

Nancy’s gaze is glued to the floor, her fists clenched so tight that her knuckles are white. “You need to go,”

Robin steps forward tentatively, trying to reach out to cup Nancy’s cheek, “Nance, I didn’t mean-“

“Don’t,” Nancy bats Robin’s hand away, giving her a hard glare. Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears and her lip is trembling. “Just go to Steve’s,”

Robin isn’t sure why she bites back. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I’m going to Steve’s,” Robin storms out of the kitchen, blinking back tears, slipping on her shoes, “Go cry to one of your exes about it, sorry I’m occupying one of them,”

“Fuck. You.”

Robin leaves the apartment, swinging the door shut behind her, and Nancy breaks. Hot tears stream down her cheeks and she just stands there, dumbfounded, staring at the door as if Robin’s coming back. Begging her silently to come back.

She finds herself wandering back to the kitchen, getting out a brush and pan and sweeping the broken bits of plate up. She doesn’t know how long she stays in the kitchen; sat on the counter and biting at the skin around her fingernails, reaching to pick up the phone off the wall only to hesitate and draw her hand back. Crying until she can hardly feel the tears running down her face or hear her nose sniffling.

When she finally brings herself to pick up the phone, after taking a long shower and mulling everything thing over. She’s promised herself, swore to herself since 1983 that she would always check up after a fight, since ‘84 she’s promised to never leave a fight unresolved. The phone rings three times before someone picks up.

“Munson residence, whaddya want?”

“Eddie?”

There’s a quiet gasp and a pause from the phone. “Nance? Hey, Robin came round earlier, is everything okay?”

“Honestly? No,” her voice cracks and she lets out a small sob.

“Woah, hey, Robin’s still here, she’s been talking to Steve all night, do you want me to-“

“No, no, I’ll uh, I’ll come and pick her up,” Nancy sniffles.

“Aright, just letting you know she’s probably a little tipsy,” Eddie says, “I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she isn’t too drunk before you come around,”

“Thanks, Ed, see you soon,”

“See ya, Nance,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Robin sniffles and Steve passes her a tissue.

“Fuck, I know she was just trying to like, let me know I could be open with her but I just can’t bring myself to, y’know?” Robin blows her nose and Steve nods along.

Robin continues, “And I don’t want her worrying because she’s doing so well at her new job and she doesn’t need that, plus I don’t think I’m ready to talk about with her, it’ll just be like reliving it all over again,”

“Why didn’t you tell her that then?” Steve is holding her hand, the way they always do when they have heart-to-hearts.

“Agh, I guess I was burnt out after talking to you in the phone? And she kept trying to check on me and I just got so frustrated,” She often feels that way; frustration stemming from exhaustion, or the lights being too bright, or being able to feel her clothes against her skin, or a sound she doesn’t like. “It’s no excuse though, I was being such an ass and I just couldn’t shut up and I was horrible to her, Steve,”

“And I might have made a comment about Barb,” Robin mumbles, the guilt and regret returning in a wave.

“Rob, that’s not okay, you need to apologise to her,” Steve takes a serious tone. Steve knows how the guilt over Barb’s death feels, to a certain extent; she died in his pool, while he and Nancy were upstairs, not bothering to check on Barb. He wasn’t ever able to swim in the pool alone again, especially when it was dark. It’s one of the reasons he was so eager to move out as soon as he got enough money.

But whatever guilt he felt, Nancy felt tenfold; it had destroyed her, she could hardly live with it sometimes, Robin knew well too.

“I don’t think she wants to see me right now,” Robin’s lip wobbles and she starts crying again, “Fuck, I love her so much, man, and I’ve screwed it all up because I was being a stubborn piece of shit,”

“Robin, hey,” Steve soothes, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, “You haven’t screwed it up, you underestimate how much Nancy loves you too; the best thing for you to do is apologise, and she should too,”

There’s a knock on the living room door.

“Eds, you can come in, love” Steve says after sharing a look with Robin to make sure she doesn’t mind his boyfriend walking in on her relationship crisis.

“Well uh, actually, Stevie, we have a guest,” Eddie’s comes in followed by another, shorter head of brown curls, paired with a tear-stained face and a sniffly nose.

The four are silent, the atmosphere thick with tension. Not the same tension as when Robin and Nancy were arguing; that was like the feeling after lightning had just struck, like rolling thunder. This tension was heavy like fog; gloomy and confusing and lost.

“We’ll let you two talk,” Steve says, getting up and exiting the room with Eddie. He closes the door quietly behind them, leaving Nancy stood staring at Robin with glossy eyes. Robin opens her mouth to say something but Nancy speaks first.

“Robbie, I’m so sorry,” she walks over to the couch and sits down next to Robin, leaving a foot or so’s distance between them, “I shouldn’t have pushed your boundaries and I-”

“Nance, stop,” Robin mutters, “I should be apologising; I snapped and shouted at you and took my emotions out on you and it wasn’t okay,” She doesn’t bother to wipe her tears now.

“Baby, don’t cry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Nancy shuffles closer, and goes to hug Robin but hesitates. The two make eye contact and Robin nods, wordlessly letting Nancy know that it’s okay. Nancy wraps her arms around her tight, burying her head in the crook of Robin’s neck. Robin rests her head in Nancy’s hair, rubbing circles on the small of Nancy’s back.

“I’m sorry I was keeping stuff from you, I get that you were only trying to help,”

Nancy sniffles. “I’m sorry I was invasive, you and Steve are super close and I shouldn’t have been jealous of that; whatever it is you have no obligation to tell me, unless you’re ready,”

They hug quietly for a minute or so, until Robin Puls back slightly so she can look Nancy in the eye, “Also, what I said - about Barb - that was a low blow, and I’m so sorry, Nance, god, I’m sorry,”

“Thanks, Rob,” Nancy gives her a watery smile and cups her cheek, “I think we can agree we both said awful things, darling, but… are we okay?”

Robin lets out a raspy laugh and kisses Nancy’s forehead. “Yeah, we’re okay,”

They say their goodbyes (and thank yous) to Steve and Eddie - ‘cause hell, what would they do without them - and drive home listening to the mixtape they made for their first year anniversary. They sing along to every track, laughing and grinning like idiots. When they get home, they get changed and curl up in bed, not sleeping but just being together, cuddling and relaxing In each other’s presence.

“Nance?” Robin breaks the silence.

“Yeah Rob?”

“I think I’m ready to talk about it,”

“Are you sure, my love?”

She nods. She tells Nancy about her encounter in the Russian base, in that summer of ‘85 years ago now, beneath the Starcourt Mall; about the interrogation, the drugs, breaking out. Nancy was shocked - she’d known the basics of what happened but never the full, traumatising account Robin gave her, but she listened; she let Robin cry into her shoulder when she needed to, reminded her she could stop whenever she wanted, that she was here and not going anywhere.

“I’m so sorry, my sunshine, I’m sorry that all happened to you,” Nancy says, swiping away one of Robin’s tears with her thumb.

“Thanks Nance, for listening,” Robin snuffles, “I love you,”

“I love you too, so much,”

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Eight, Part 1

"Fuck you!" I shouted from the locked bathroom. It was the only place in the apartment that locked from the inside. And I needed to lock her out.

"You're such a piece of shit!" She replied. I could hear her breaking things, my things, and I knew if I opened that door, something was bound to come flying at my head. And I knew I was too tired to dodge it.

I hadn't slept in three days, so I wasn't all there in my head. That's what Emily was upset about. I was forgetful and couldn't do anything right at all. Only now she was saying I was this way on purpose. That I fought sleep so I could have an excuse for being stupid. Or in her words 'retarded.'

"What's wrong? Can't come out and face me, you fucking pussy?" Something hard hit the door and I could hear it shatter. Probably a plate or glass. I'm sure with how many times I've heard that thump and shatter, the floor outside the bathroom would be littered with shards of broken glass and porcelain,

"Fuck you." It seemed those two words were all my rattled brain could come up with. And that was fine. Those two words were my sentiments and if I said anything else, it would just be used against me. Like everything else that would come out of my mouth.

"No, fuck you. I asked you to do one fucking thing and you couldn't even do that right." She was in a rage because I missed two dishes in the living room. Two plates. Every chore had been done, to her standards. Even though those standards changed on a daily basis. It didn't really matter, because those two dishes were enough to set her off.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was skeletal. I'd always been skinny, but my skin was never tight on my bones. And now it was. I didn't eat much. Not just because I was extremely depressed but also because I just didn't have time to eat more than a small snack here and there.

My eyes were sunken in. Lack of sleep does some strange things to the body. I looked like I was dying and I guess in a way I was. The stressful environment that was my waking days was killing me. I was going to die by pure exhaustion and sadness. That's if I didn't take my life first, and I had thought about ending it almost daily on the tail end of Emily and I's relationship.

I stared at myself, the sounds from outside the door slowly fading as I escaped into my dissociative world. There was no fighting and screaming there. No glass shattering. No fresh scars. It was safe there. I wasn't the worst thing on the planet.

"Open the fucking door!" She screamed and pounded her fists on the door. I had to wait this out. Soon enough her mood would change, and she'd love me again. We'd finish off nights like this, laying together on our couch, watching some stupid show on Netflix. That was her way of saying sorry. At least that's how I took it. She was the queen of the gaslight anthems, where "I never said that" means "I love you."

Her fists soon slowed and gained less interest in trying to knock open the door. I sighed slightly. This was almost over. I just needed to wait it out a little longer.

"Fuck this." I heard her say before her footsteps lead away and back out into the living room. I heard the TV turn on, some stupid sitcom filling the air with canned laughter. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I was shaking. Out of frustration and sadly, out of fear.

I looked at the line along my palm, remembering when she had tried to stab me. I knew that if I stayed with her, there was a pretty good chance I'd become another homicide statistic. And I didn't care. If this is how I was to die, then so be it. Life wasn't worth living if everything was miserable.

I waited maybe five more minutes before I slowly unlocked the door and stepped out into the apartment. It was quiet and it game a false sense of security. As soon as I was away from the bathroom, a plate flew out of nowhere, hitting me in the ribs and falling to the floor, now shards.

Emily stood at the end of the small hall. She was waiting for me, and I had not given her enough time to settle herself.

"You piece of shit!" She screamed, as she came running at me. I'm sure all our neighbors hated us. Her hands connected with my face, leaving scratches that beaded little drops of blood. Already, I was trying to figure out some excuse to why my face was full of marks. I guess I could blame it on the cat.

I tried shoving her away, but with no sleep and a lack of nutrition, I had no strength. She slapped me across the face for some unknown conviction. I grabbed her arms and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Stop fucking hitting me." I said, each word living it's own life as a sentence. I held tightly on her wrists, not caring if I left marks or not. I didn't want to be hit anymore.

"Fuck you." I think the words fuck you left our mouths more than any other word. Definitely more than I love you, or I'm sorry. Fuck you was our love language.

She fought against my hold, and it didn't take her much to break free. I didn't have the strength to hold her back anymore. So I took the clawing at my face. I took the pushing and shoving. I stood there and let her take everything out on me waiting for her to tire herself out. I took the punch to my face.

"You're an asshole. Fucking worthless piece of shit," She turned away from me and headed off into our bedroom. It was late but I couldn't tell you the time. I stopped paying attention to the clock and the passing of time months ago. When things were made clear. Things that this was no good, but I had no escape. This is all I was worth. I was worth nothing.

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Testing: Phase Two

O5 wants to see firsthand how I'd handle myself in a legitimate breach. Lucky for them, and unlucky for me... Big Brother woke up and chose violence. He trashed his quarters, is chasing the guards around, classic Abel on a rampage. All because Agent Dimitriov had to take a few days to say good bye to his dying mother. So, into the Semetic dragon's den go I. Honestly... I have a bad feeling about this, kids.

Great. He was doing so well. Then, sadly, Dimi lost his mom. Thus, Abel is now tearing apart the killing corridor piece by piece. Just in time for O5 to see just how much I learned from Big Brother. So, it's just me going in. Clef is livid. He's trailing behind myself and the O5, shouting at them.

"You can't be serious, sending Rabbit in alone. And unarmed? She's not ready. You're not throwing her into the deep end, you're throwing her to a very angry shark." At this, O5-12 spins on his heel.

"Do you have a better idea on determining if our Rabbit can swim? Besides, this line of reasoning is almost comical coming from you, Dr. Clef. Are you, or are you not, known for "simulating" type Green attacks in your classes?"

"Yeah, but-"

"This is no different. Rabbit can do this. We have faith in her. Now, stop coddling her and let her get on with it. Proceed with testing, Dr. Snow." I swallow my nerves and approach the doors. Just before I go in, Clef stops me.

"Be careful, Snowbunny. I'd hate to have to find a new assistant, you're a tough act to follow." I force myself to smile before I answer.

"No worries, I'll be fine. But... if I survive I think I earned takeout."

"Done. Try not to die, Snowbunny." A quick hug, a passing kiss on the cheek, and... into the mouth of hell I go. I try not to wince when the doors close behind me.

I reach the killing corridor proper, and don't even get to wince before Big Brother is swinging at my head with a kopesh. I teleport behind him, kick him down. Then, he gets up and tackles me. He punches my head, but finds only the steel plating where I was. I stab him in his left leg with an ice shard. Bad call. He just yanks it out, flings it back at my head. I duck, it shatters. Before I can recover, I'm dodging a flurry of punches while trying to hit him back. This... is going to get me killed. But... if I can pull this off, it might take some of the fight out of Abel. While I'm trying to fight off his attacks, he's managed to not only expose a very handy piece of steel plumbing pipe, he's also thoughtfully disconnected a large segment of it, about two meters. Bit heavy, but... I manage to levitate it and swing it as hard as I can. Abel tumbles off me, holding his head. Before long, he recovers. He's slower, so at least I concussed him. I take my chance to see if I can snap him out of it.

"SCP 076-2, WHAT IN THE KENTUCKY FRIED FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?"

Shit. Forgot my voice also got power upgrades. He looks like I just flash-banged him point blank. His dagger clatters to the floor. Awareness dawns on him like a sunrise.

"You... screamed at me. Did... oh, (untranslatable), I might have made a mistake."

"Yeah, but it's fixable. No worries. Sorry." I grab Abel's shoulder, give it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, Dimi will be back in two days. That's 48 hours. You made it twice that before today. I know you miss him, this just isn't how to handle it."

"You are, as always right, Little Sister. This is all new to me."

"It's okay. Just... maybe ask to use the Rage Cage next time?"

The intercom crackles by the door.

"Wait... when did we get a Rage Cage? Oh, you mean the Room of Self Replicating Porcelain Plates? How do you know about that? That's Level 4 clearance, Dr. Snow." There's quiet murmuring behind O5-2. "Dr. Clef's assistant, in charge of Anomalous Enrichment Protocol? Oh,.. yeah. Fine. We will authorize 076-2 for the Rage Cage. But! No more rampages, understood?"

"Understood."

"Good."

"O5-2, sir? Request permission to escort 076-2 to the Rage Cage to... calm down, give the E-Class a chance to straighten up in here. I'll keep a very sharp eye on him."

"See that you do, Dr. Snow." Abel consents to being strapped down for transport. As this is happening, and can take a bit due to multiple multiple straps, I step into the hall. O5-11 is talking to Clef, waiting.

"I knew you'd handle things, Dr. Snow. And, Dr. Clef? Fire her and the Red Right Hand will shoot you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir. In a way... I think I owe O5-6 some whiskey for hiring her." This had me smiling despite the pain creeping in from where Abel hit me. Ugh. Thank 343 it was mostly fists on his end. Even still, I'm going to be black and blue all over by nightfall. But... no, I didn't die. Sure, no amount of makeup will cover the huge bruise I'm sure is forming on my left jawline, but I survived, somehow.

[mealvaan]

Captious

“Fuck!”

The piercing sound of shattered porcelain serves as an accompaniment to Meindo’s profanity. The curry sauce spills into the floor, grains of rice flowing forth and finding a comfortable place in the crevices.

She doesn’t hesitate a second to disintegrate into apologies. “Sorry, ‘m sorry, I’ll fix it, I’m so sorry,” she rasps, one knee pressed hard into the tile. With digits in desperate claws, she scrapes up what little she can muster from the mess she’s made. With each gesture, more slips between her fingers. No matter how much she tries—

“Mei, relax,” Vahri’to chides, striding over calmly to inspect the mess. “A mop’ll have this right as rain if you give it a fuckin’ second, alright?”

Purple eyes like unbroken dinner plates, she cranes her neck up to him from her popped squat. “It’s alrigh’…?”

“‘Course it is, I’ll just get a new one. Now c'mon, off the floor, you’re gonna cut yourself on the shards if you aren’t careful.”

Taking her calloused, curry-stained hand in his own, he helps his little sister to her feet. There’s a bashful air about her for all of her big talk — embarrassed that she had fallen apart into old ways. Displayed a nervousness she thought had been buried and gone.

Vahri’to makes nothing of it. As he ambles over to one of many storage closets in his grand abode, takes his sweet time looking for the misplaced bucket to his lone mop, and spends a good few moments giving the bucket he procures a proper sniff, Meindo watches in a type of abject awe previously unbeknownst to her. 

Why is she so surprised?

It’s not as if Vahri’to is being particularly polite. Profanity peppers his speech as always. The pace at which he seeks to address the issue is casual at best, as if there’s no urgency whatsoever to the broken plate.

 But why would there be? He’s right in that there are plenty of them in this world. He could go out and purchase one this instant if he wanted, but he’s the proud owner of more than two dinner plates. 

Slowly but surely, Meindo feels the pounding in her chest simmer. 

“Curry ain’t really a Heavensturn dish anyway, is it?” Vahri’to says, seeming blissfully unaware of Meindo’s predicament before him as he mops up the muck. “Fuck it, let’s get some… fuckin’… noodles. That’s how they do it in the Far East, you know.”

“… Y’ sure? I really don’t mind makin’ some more.”

“Nah. Should’ve taken you out in the first place. You can use one of my coats or some shit. There’s a place just ‘round the corner.”

In a flurry of wool and buttons, the two black-haired Keepers set out into the chill of the night. Where most of their kind would welcome the cold — it was the Lover’s domain, after all — the two have since acclimated to warmer weather. 

“Dunno why they bother fuckin’ doing this when the weather’s just fine most of the twelvemoon,” Vahri’to bitterly comments, catching flakes of thaumaturgical snow in his hair. The heels of his boots click apace upon the brick road, eagerly passing by the nooks and crannies of his all too familiar neighborhood.

Of course, the wealthier district of Ul’dah is a stark change to the hurried alleyways of Limsa Lominsa that Meindo is so used to. While the street is still awash with merriment, all of it is muffled behind glowing windows and closed doors. The balls of a lifetime held within those walls are only shared to the two of them in glimpses when someone dares to open the door. Safer, by all means, but still lonely.

Perhaps this isolated culture is just what Vahri’to wants. All that space in that manse of his, but he only invited one guest. Now they’re not even using the dining hall.

“‘To,” she says between strides, easily keeping pace with him. “D’you get invited to Vahri’s nameday party?”

At first, all he musters is a grunt. In quiet, sharp words, he responds, “Took the Beast long enough to get with the times, didn’t he? He used to chide us for celebratin’ shit like that for ourselves.”

“Are you goin’?”

“No.”

There’s no bells and whistles to his answer. No uncouth adverbs, no sighs or pauses. It earns a furrow of the brow from his sister, arms folding over her chest. She knows him well enough to speak her mind despite their difference in age. He knows her well enough to have found peace with her bluntness.

“He’s turnin’ thirty y’know. I know you two don’t talk, and I’m not askin’ ya’ to bury the hatchet, but it could be a bit of a nice thing to do, don’t y’think?”

As Vahri’to shakes his head, strands of hair fall upon his face — only to be blown away by the dull ‘winter’ breeze.

“Do you really think it’s gonna be any fuckin’ fun?” he asks, a tinge of anger in his voice. It’s not directed towards her. Rather, it’s an ambience that seems to follow whenever their dearest big brother is mentioned. “Or are you just gonna be actin’ the way you did when you dropped that plate, the whole night through?”

Taken aback, she finally falls behind him; it only takes a few of his steps, after all. She briskly catches up a moment later, clearing her throat into a balled fist.

“Wh… What d’you mean?”

“I mean you act like a kicked puppy ‘cause of him. That’s not the Mei I’ve come to know. But sometimes you slip into all that, and Hells, I was there too. I was like that for a whole seventeen summers, and I got a shit load of nothin’ out of all the time I spent bein’ a good little dog.”

For the second time that night, she’s stunned into silence.

“I don’t think you should be showin’ up… Even if the bastard was turnin’ a hundred fuckin’ cycles. What d’you owe him that you haven’t already given him? He’s already squattin’ in your apartment—”

“It’s his now, to be fair.”

“Your name’s on the deed.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“It just feels like you think you’ve gotta meet his standards and please him after all this time. He’s a grown ass man and you’re a grown ass woman, so if you don’t actually want to go, you don’t have to go. If he’s not got any friends to celebrate his nameday with, it’s his own fuckin’ fault, isn’t it? For bein’ such a— such a prick, findin’ fault in every little thing. He would’ve made you clean up that mess, make us more curry, and apologize the whole way through. And why’s it like that?”

Ever the draumaturge, his spit finds its way onto the pavement for emphasis. “‘Cause he needs to fuel his damn ego. That’s why.”

Meindo finds herself chewing on her lip. While she allows his words to stew in her mind, bubble and boil and marinate her inner thoughts…  something about them feels wrong to her. And perhaps that’s because he’s right. Perhaps she does bend over backwards to appease their older brother, even now, whether she realizes it or not.

Her train of thought comes to a screeching halt as Vahri’to stops and turns tail.

“Here it is. C’mon, you’re gonna love it.”

With that said, a grin cracks across her lips. Fangs bearing, she starts digging into her pocket for her coin purse — only for Vahri’to to grab her wrist.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare. It’s on me.”

[sukunaslilmuffin]

How Cute (Sukuna x Reader)

Sukuna x Reader: Female perspective, SMUT.

Warnings: Hinted Sexual Themes

Part 2:

NOT FOR MINORS

Summary: You're a maid working in Sukuna's temple. Your day is normal, cleaning rooms, cleaning dishes until the king asks for tea. Your hands shake as you carry the plate with cups and the pot. You stumble over a step to his throne, the shattering of glass the only thing you hear. "Fuck."

--------------------------------------------------

Your day had started off like normal. You went from room to room making beds, hanging clothes, and washing sheets. This was your typical day as a maid in Sukuna's temple. You'd clean and he'd spare your life, pretty simple. It wasn't anything too hard. Wash clothes and hand them up. Wash sheets and make the beds, and of course, DON'T piss off the King of Curses. You had found these few rules simple and they had gotten you by for a few months, that is until today. You were currently cleaning the dishes in the kitchen after breakfast when Uraume came to fetch you.

"Are you busy maid?" You dried off the last plate setting it into the cupboard before turning around to bow. "No, I actually just finished, am I needed?" Your hands were on your thighs in small fists, shaking as you spoke softly. "The King requires tea." You nodded your head quickly turning around to heat up the pot. "Make it quick maid." "Of course." You bowed once more as Uraume left turning to watch the water. You waited until it began to boil placing the green tea bags inside. On a silver plate, you placed the porcelain tea cups and pot.

You made your way down the halls watching the other maids go about their business. Those who saw you gave you sad expressions, some giving you a light smile and bow. They knew where you were going and had the utmost sympathy for you. It was never easy facing the kind. Not only was he massive compared to you, but his presence alone made your hands shake and your knees weak. The plate began to rattle as you made your way to his throne room. The large doors were pushed open for you as you walked in.

Your breathing became unsteady as you walked down the corridor. The room was dimly lit by a few torches surrounding pillars. The only sound is your feet against the smooth ground and the occasional rattling of the cups. You can feel it the second you get to the first step of his throne. The piercing gaze boring through your head. You dare not look up, you dare to not breathe. You can't see it but you can feel the smirk on his face. He's laughing at you, mocking you without making a sound. He can see how your hands are shaking, how your legs beg you to stop, to turn around. Better yet, he can see the look on your face, petrified can't begin to explain it.

You take slow steps up to him, each one causing your knees to wobble. The plate has begun to rattle noisily your attempts to settle the noise are all for not. The hem of your dress kept catching on your feet as your rose your leg to step down, you slipped but caught yourself. You were breathing erratically, legs and hands shaking, under his heavy stare. Your foot caught on your dress as you were on the last few steps. No...no no NO. You fell forward trying desperately to keep a hold on the plate but it was no use. You fell hard onto your knees, your elbows slamming into the last stair.

You went to cry out in pain but bit your cheek in fear of the man above you. You already had a slim chance of living considering you were just a maid, they would come and go often, but not only did you just ruin his tea, but the shattering of the pot and cups was also the nail in your coffin. You quickly tried to pick up the pieces of broken porcelain hurriedly muttering apologies. "I'm sorry your king, I-I'll get more, I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry." Your hands shook vigorously as you placed the porcelain on the silver plate. Your eyes scanned the floor looking for any remnants, your hands burning from the hot tea.

Your heart was racing the loud thumping harsh in your ears. You couldn't hear him, he hadn't said anything nor made a noise. You rose to your feet only to groan in pain. Your knees a blood-red from falling, they were sure to bruise later. You tore part of your ragged dress off to soak up the tea all the while waiting for him to punish you, or kill you. You didn't look up at him, you were too terrified even as minutes passed as you cleaned up your mess he stayed there silent. Was he just letting you believe you were going to be spared? Or was he just thinking of the best way to get rid of you? A slow, long, and painful death as he laughs maniacally at you.

You swallowed thickly at the thought, your mouth suddenly dry. You had finished cleaning the floor near spotless. You turned to leave walking down the steps limping as you went. You could feel him staring at you, maybe you should have said something? You apologized, or did he want you to wait for the punishment here? You didn't want to think anymore your head was pounding. You walked back to the kitchen letting out the breath you had been holding. You sighed heavily. You were dead, so dead no amount of crying or apologizing would fix this.

You tossed out the broken glass and the torn piece of your dress. Making another batch of tea you felt immensely uneasy. He could come up behind you at any second, slit your throat and no one would know. Another woman would take your place and that would be the end of it. No one would even remember you. Hot tears pour down your cheeks as you think about your pathetic existence. You didn't matter. You were offered to him and placed on maid duty, not even special enough to be one of his "toys." Not that you wanted to be but that meant one of two things, you either weren't good enough or he didn't see anything in you that surprised him. Unworthy of his touch and time.

Uraume walked in as you finished placing the tea on the now cleaned plate. "The King wishes to see you." "Y-yes I have remade the tea-", "Just you." You gently set down the plate wiping your hands on your gown. Oh god, it's time, this is it, what do I think? What do I even say? Do I pray? Do I beg for my life? Will anyone even care? Your thoughts bombarded your mind as you hastily made your way to his throne room. Your mouth went dry and your hands began to sweat. You practically ran up the stairs and dropped to your knees by his feet as you have been told to do. You sit on your heels, hands balled at your knees as you stare down at your lap. The hem of your dress riding up ever so slowly.

You sat there in silence perfectly still waiting for him to scold you, or to just even say something to you, anything. The silence was killing you, the atmosphere so heavy you could barely breathe. You heard a soft patting. You raised your head slowly. It felt like your head was being held down, you did not want to look him in the face. You stopped when you saw the reason for the sound. His hand was patting his thigh gently. You couldn't see the look he was making and you honestly didn't want to. You were unsure what the gesture meant but you rose to your feet anyways. You rubbed your knees gently wincing at the now dark purple bruises on each.

You walked over keeping your head low so you could only see his waist down. You stared at his hand for a minute or two. Were you supposed to sit on it? Rub it? You must have been thinking too long because the sigh he made was more than annoyed. His hands wrapped around your hips easily lifting you up and onto his lap. Your face flushed red as you stared down at his and your lap. His hand's rand won your thighs rubbing over your knees gently. He forced your arms up to look at your elbows. "That fall must have hurt, hmm?" His voice was deep and rough, although his words seemed sweet he sounded anything but sentimental.

You nodded, your lips quivering. "Y-yes I rushed to make you more tea." You continued to stare down twiddling your thumbs avoiding any eye contact he was trying to make. You felt warmth against your elbow then a cold slickness. You peaked over to see his lips against the bruised skin. His mouth was slightly open, sharp canines poking out beneath his pink lips. His tongue licked a long stripe against your elbow. Your thighs squeezed together at the sight, heat rising to your cheeks. His eyes were closed, pretty black eyelashes kissing his cheeks. You never really looked at him, not even a glance. You were too afraid, but at this distance, he was truly beautiful. His tattoos were flawless, and his lips a shiny pink with spit.

You were too busy being in shock to realize he had opened his eyes and was staring directly at your face. His eyes were gorgeous. Dark crimson orbs stared back at you studying your expressions. You didn't know whether to be turned on or scared for your life. He hummed complacently when you bit your lower lip. He left warm wet kisses down your arm, stopping to leave a few gentle bites on your neck. His lips brushed against your ear as his hands fell to your thighs.

"Now how should I punish you, hmm?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2? Let me know what you think!

Any ideas or requests are appreciated! Thank you so much for the reblogs and hearts!

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Can I please get a fic of the Bonten get caught cheating on the reader and their reacting to the reader leaving them?

You Should Go: Sanzu Haruchiyo/ Ran Haitani/ Rindou Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: angst? angst.

masterlist

song recommendation:

Sanzu Haruchiyo

"Loyal," you shout, throwing the expensive vase at Sanzu. He ducks, his pink hair flying and blue eyes full of fear, but you don't care about how he feels. You just want him to hurt like you're hurting. "You said you'd be loyal!" The vase shatters on the wall opposite his head, spraying chunks of porcelain everywhere.

"Babe, stop!" Sanzu pleads, tears welling up in his eyes. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry! A one-time thing; it'll never happen again."

"You're right," you exhale, dropping your shoulders as you stoop down to grab the bag in your hand. "It won't happen again." Sanzu seems to calm down, his shoulders also slumping as his hands drop to his sides.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just don't leave me. Not right now."

"Fuck you, Sanzu," you hiss, snatching the keys off of the counter behind you. "I want a divorce."

"Wait!" You storm out of the mansion, bag in hand as you march across the gravel to your car. "Y/n, don't do this!"

You don't even bother with replying, instead choosing to swing the car door open and throw your things in before sliding in. Sanzu briefly chases after you in the car, slamming his hand on the trunk before you peel off, driving down the driveway and out of his life.

Ran Haitani

"My mother warned me about men like you," you gripe, snatching clothes off the hangers and tossing them into your oversized suitcase. "I can't stay here with your fucking lies."

Ran tries to stop your hands from their motions, gripping your wrists feverishly.

"Stop this madness," Ran hisses, but you snatch your hands back, returning to your removal of clothing.

"Shut the fuck up, cheater."

Ran flinches at this comment but steps back, his eyes watching in slow-motion as you grab things that you owned and not a single one of his gifts to take with you.

"No, no, no, no," Ran chants, jogging down the stairs as your bag thumps on the marble. "No." His last 'no' is punctuated by him standing in front of you, eyes full of something you'd never seen before. Fear.

"Move, Haitani." Your push against his frame isn't enough, and you realize that you're sorely outmatched when his hands grab your suitcase, prying it from your fingers without harming you at all. "Move!" You shove him again, tears coming to your eyes as you push, push, push... but he doesn't budge an inch.

"No, I can't let you go." You fight him with all you have, trying your best to disarm him so you can leave and gather your thoughts, but he's not letting you. "Just... just... just stop!"

You collapse in a heap of tears and sorrow and shame at his feet, pressing a hand to your face.

"Fuck, I shouldn't be crying like this," you moan, wiping your eyes.

Ran doesn't reply, covering you with his large frame and holding you in his warmth, stroking your back as you sob pitifully in his arms.

"I'm tired of your whores calling me and reminding me I'm the worthless wife," you hiccup, pushing him away. "It's me or them, Ran. I'm done with this shit."

"It's always going to be you," he whispers, cupping your face tenderly. "I'll always choose you."

But somehow, his words never seem quite real - like a fairy tale with a happy ending.

Rindou Haitani

You had to drug him to escape. That was the only way out.

Rindou lays in the bed, his evening tea mixed with dissolvable Benadryl tablets, which we masked by the taste of cinnamon and black pepper spices.

You don't even bother leaving a note.

You slide the rings he'd given you as a vow of his commitment onto the pillow beside him and slipped out into the night, crashing at a hotel with no phone, no credit card, no way of being traced.

Rindou knew your list of "non-negotiables" contained "cheating" and he'd crossed that boundary one too many times. If his brother hadn't been in on it every single time, you'd work it out with Rin somehow. But Ran obviously wanted you out of the picture.

So you'd do just that.

The first sign that Rindou knows you've left him is the sudden appearance of men who lurked in the shadows with him.

Sanzu.

Kokonoi.

Takeomi.

They all appeared in places that you'd think would be obscure enough to inhabit. But as you caught sight of Sanzu in the hotel mirror, ducking your head and pulling the fur hood up to mask your face, you knew it was time to leave.

If the Loyal Mad Dog was on your trail, you'd have a lot more problems than just an angry ex-husband.

The second sign came after you sent the divorce papers through your lawyer.

You'd been in your new home, the mountain air chilling your bones and your heart when a black van rolled into the complex, thousands of miles away from its original departure point.

You even recognized the license plate.

The house went up for sale that evening. The divorce papers were never signed.

The final sign Rindou was desperately searching for you came when you carried the trash out to the garbage bin, eyes glued firmly to the road and your freshly-dyed hair waving in the wind.

And his car pulled up, lights blinding you as the doors opened and a couple of hands dragged you inside, tossing you in the back. You bump your head on the side door, rendering you still and a little stunned as Rindou climbs in the front seat, driving in silence.

"You think you can just divorce me?" Purple eyes catch your gaze as you rub the back of your head, hissing in pain. "You just run away and then expect to not be found? Tch." You groan, laying in the seat and trying to think of an escape, which is virtually impossible now. "I thought you knew me better than that, y/n. You forgot who you married, I guess."

[runekeepershymnal]

TRC AU- Everything is the same except Adam is the ghost.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?" a voice echoed around the warehouse as Ronan smashed plate after plate.

"My dad was murdered," Ronan answered, flinging a large dish like a frisbee in the direction he thought the voice came from. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

When Ronan threw the next plate, it didn't crash into anything, and was caught instead. The figure who caught it didn't wince at the impact against his long fingered hand. He was wearing an Aglionby uniform; it looked frayed. He was so pale and faded that Ronan thought that maybe he'd coalesced out of the motes of dust that perpetually drifted in every sunbeam.

The boy laughed, softly.

"That's funny," he said distantly. Ronan was across the room with his hand fisted in the boy's sweater before he'd even realized that he'd moved.

"Funny?" Ronan seethed, planning on beating the shit out of this kid no matter what he said next. "Tell me, you piece of shit, what's fucking funny about it?"

The air grew suddenly humid, and Ronan's right ear popped, the pressure in the left building without relief. The ancient outlets, never properly grounded, started to spit sparks.

Ronan hadn't struck him, but the boy had started to bleed, just on one side. Blood dripped from his nose, slid down the left side of his face from an ear, and, lastly, beaded at the corner of his eye until it overflowed, a viscous red raindrop.

"It's funny," the boy said, and his voice was wrong, so wrong, an echo without the source, thunder without the flash of lightning, "because my dad murdered me."

Lightning did strike then, no gap between it and the thunder because it was right outside the window. Ronan shut his eyes against the brightness, and when he opened them, his hand was empty. The sun was shining brightly as it had been when he arrived at Monmouth twenty minutes ago.

The plate he'd just thrown was on the ground, at his feet, whole. When he reached down to pick it up, Ronan noticed a drop of blood, patriotically crimson against the white of the porcelain with its decorations of Wedgewood blue. He stood. Tomorrow was the fourth, after all.

"I guess you had to be there," the boy's voice crackled right next to Ronan's ear.

The plate slipped from his grasp as he whirled in that direction, crashing to the floor and shattering as surely as if he'd done it on purpose.

No one was there. He turned and turned, but there was no one. Just dust in the sunbeams from a cloudless blue sky.

[lacontroller1991]

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl​

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!